


iv. reflection

by ＫＥＩ (keiyoko)



Series: fictober 2020 [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Introspection, of a sort, shattered (working title)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26909587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keiyoko/pseuds/%EF%BC%AB%EF%BC%A5%EF%BC%A9
Summary: Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me?Why is my reflection someone I don’t know?
Series: fictober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952758





	iv. reflection

It’d been a few days since Valerian arrested me in the Hall of the Godstars, since he slapped that damn enchanted silver gorget around my throat and its matching bracers. Since the High Priestess Yelena touched my cheek with that cool hand of hers and told me I was not myself. 

The only thing I’d done since then was study my reflection in the mirror, searching for answers in the lines of my face. 

Well. I did spend an hour or so attempting to break out of the chambers the princeps had locked me in. Without the use of my magic, the most I could do was slam my fists into the frosted, shatterproof glass of the windows and glare at the air vent that was too small for me to crawl through. After my knuckles were bloodied and bruised, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try the door.

To my astonishment, it was unlocked and swung open when I turned the handle. There were only six guards in the hallway, but I remembered Valerian’s threat of bodily harm to the other fayth if I so much as stepped out of my gilded cell. On top of that, he’d made no move to visit _or_ otherwise punish me, so the amount of time and effort it would to hatch an escape plan and execute it wouldn’t be worth the resulting failure.

Isn’t that pathetic? One of the most powerful beings alive, one of the strongest fayth since the Star itself, and all I could do was sit in an unlocked room and wait for whatever the godstars—and Valerian—had in store for me. At the very least, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of my fear, so I passed the time in front of the ornate vanity.

It was strange, looking at a face that was _almost_ mine. You never realize how attached you are to your own face until it isn’t there anymore. I certainly didn’t, even if it hadn’t changed that much from how I looked before. Whatever glamor Yelena had dispelled, if there had been one in the first place, only altered enough of my appearance to make me feel like a stranger in my own body.

I’d gained a few inches of height, the lines of my face became more angular, and while the color of my hair stayed the same dark purple shade, it’d become much finer and softer to the touch. The only thing I was concerned about was my eyes. When the High Priestess pulled away, I’d felt something...change, in my eyes. The left one had somehow turned silver.

Humans, even halfling ones, do not have silver eyes. Gray, yes, but humans cannot naturally have silver eyes. It’s a recessive trait or so I’ve heard, making it an impossibility. I didn’t have any time to explore that line of thought, because that’s when Valerian and his knights had burst into the temple. At the very least, I’d managed to throw up another glamor (one that I was aware of) so as to conceal my new face from him.

 _“You’ve been spending a lot of time looking at your reflection these days.”_ Eros said, appearing by my side. He looked...oddly concerned, for the role he was to play in my story. _“I’m worried about you. The fayth I know would’ve been out of this place in a handful of hours, not sit and wait for death.”_

“That’s rich, coming from you.” I shot back, still staring at myself in the mirror. 

_You needn’t keep up pretenses in these hallowed halls._

_This is who you truly are. Nothing more, nothing less._

Yelena’s words echoed in my head, sad yet accusing. Like I’d known that I was wearing a disguise. Like I’d know I was really Suyin and just living in denial.

Even now I don’t quite believe it. What princess would choose to forget all her memories and hide away on some distant moon? Akachi’s plan didn’t require her to disappear; if anything, that only hindered the queen’s arrangement. Suyin’s abilities and experience could’ve stopped the war when it began a hundred years ago, but now Valerian reigned over a vast majority of what used to be the Federation. She could’ve prevented that, if she hadn’t disappeared.

Even if Yelena _was_ right, wouldn’t I have left clues for myself? Designed some sort of system to realize my true identity so that instead of spending a hundred years in the Archive I could reclaim my title and defeat Valerian sooner? What purpose would a double life serve, other than as a way to derail Akachi’s carefully thought out scheme?

All of it makes me wonder; how much of the person I know is real? If I’m really Suyin Yul-Fa, if this silver eye is really mine, where does she end and where do I begin? Are all my thoughts and feelings fake? Is ‘Kami’ just an act, a way to preserve myself? How do I know that I am myself, if I don’t even know who I am?

A knock on my door interrupted my existential/identity crisis, one of the guards opening it before I could say anything. To my surprise, Valerian strode in. I thought he’d wait for me to break down and beg him to come, but apparently not. I guess he just wanted to make me sweat a little, though if that was the case then it hadn’t worked.

“Hello Kami,” he said with a smile. “You look well.”

“I’d look better choking you out with my hands around your throat.” I scathingly replied. 

The guard beside the door bristled, levying their spear in my direction, but Valerian deftly waved them off. After a moment they hesitantly left, not wanting to leave their princeps alone with the Nepenthe’s most wanted war criminal. They even closed the door behind them.

Once we were alone, the princeps tilted his head and silently studied me with that piercing gaze of his. Like I was on display, a pinned butterfly in a glass box.

“Are you unwell? You don’t seem like yourself.” Valerian genuinely asked.

_How can I be ‘myself’ if I don’t even know who I am?_

“And how well is it that you think you know me?” I muttered. We were strangers, for all he knew.

Valerian humorlessly laughed and took a seat on the edge of the bed that was meant for me. I had routinely refused to sleep in it, instead curling up on the chaise at the foot of the bed with my own blanket. I wasn’t about to let myself get comfortable in what was essentially a posh prison. 

He set something white and vaguely square-shaped beside himself, and I belatedly realized that he’d entered the room with an item in his hands. When I halfheartedly glanced at him, it hadn’t been more magic-dampening silver so I hadn’t really cared what it was. It could’ve been a solid block of C4 and I wouldn’t’ve blinked, so long as it wasn’t enchanted earrings or anklets. The gorget and bracers were enough to nearly rob me of all my power, and any more would be overkill and likely make me physically ill. 

_“Lack of observation is something that can be the difference between life and death,”_ Eros chided. _“Pay more attention. We’ll get out of here faster if you put your eyes to use.”_

“Shut up,” I hissed. “I don’t need your stupid advice.”

“Talking to your fayth, I presume?” Valerian asked. Instead of answering, I stewed in silence. He didn’t deserve a second of my time, but it seemed my reticence did nothing to deter him for Valerian did not leave. And yet, I continued to ignore the man. Perhaps he’d leave if I continued to give him the cold shoulder long enough.

He tolerated the treatment for more than a few minutes, allowing me to continue studying my reflection in silence. My fayth on the other hand, grew bored and eventually vanished, most likely exploring what he could of the White Palace. I guess he wasn’t concerned enough to stick around to see what Valerian might do to me. THen again, I’d proved I could more than handle it myself if it came down to that.

It ended up being nothing interesting; he remained seated on the bed and idly scrolled through a few reports on a tablet he procured from somewhere. I gave up on trying to win his little mind game and threw an untouched makeup brush in his direction.

“Why are you here.” I demanded.

He looked up, unbothered. “Do I need a reason to see you?”

_Yeah, we’re not friends. This isn’t a fairytale—the hero you’ve kidnapped has no interest in playing whatever role you imagined._

Our stilted, awkward conversation did nothing to dampen the man’s mood. He was determined to get _something_ out of me, even if it meant enduring my angry silence. I didn’t see why; there were other things he could be doing instead of trying to pry a few words from me. Like running his own kingdom, or planning on how to conquer another one. Valerian gained nothing by being there—he was wasting time, and for what? It wasn’t like he derived any sort of joy from simply being in my company, and I certainly didn’t either. I’d drink an entire bottle of that disgusting concoction Jaydin seemed to have an endless supply of.

_“Girl.”_

It was Valerian’s fayth. Its ugly parchment colored words drifted across my line of sight.

_“Answer him, girl.”_

_Valerian’s fayth speaks to me so easily, and with no reverence. Who are they? They’re not from this plane as far as I can tell, and Akachi made no contact with any worlds beyond ours._

I heard him get up, the treads of his boots lightly squeaking against the tile floor. His reflection appeared in the mirror, drawing up to stand behind me. A faint outline of something—some _one_ was visible as well, but only to my silvered eye. His fayth.

“You look so much like her,” Valerian dreamily hummed. “I’m not entirely sure if you _aren’t_ her.” 

_He knows? No, that’s impossible. Yelena was the only one who did, and she has the backing of the godstars._

“I suppose it doesn’t matter.” He continued. “I came because I missed you. I even brought you a change of clothes, since I imagine your current outfit can’t be that comfortable.”

So that’s what he’d brought in. 

If we were different people, not princeps and fayth, I could believe that his concern was genuine. My clothes _were_ a little disgusting, not quite ruined from my successful attempt at the trial of devotion but not completely spotless. Faintly stained and ripped in a few places, but nothing like that time I’d gotten caught in a landslide on Mt. Parnassus. 

No, that hadn’t been me. Suyin had been the one in the landslide. 

_(Layers of ruined gossamer and silk, the beautiful embroidery destroyed by the fine silt and the hem absolutely caked in mud. It had been her favorite dress._

_Storm, on the other hand, looked at home dipped head-to-toe in mud. Wet clumps of it stuck to his armor in hard-to-clean places but he didn’t seem to mind.)_

Valerian’s hand lightly tracing the spirals of the gorget brought me back to reality and I deftly swatted his hand away. Instead of pulling away entirely he let the same hand lightly rest on my shoulder, in a compromise that left me wanting. I huffed and turned away, once again looking at my reflection. This time, so was he. 

With a faint smile, like a pass at friendliness, he said, “We may be of different faith but I believe in reincarnation too, you know. The only difference is that our god is a merciful one.”

I met his cold, dark eyes in the mirror. They seemed almost devoid of life. 

“Ironic, that you shun the stars even though they’ve blessed you so.”

 _“She speaks at last. Your godstars are foolish, girl. This is no blessing.”_ The pale voice said again.

“And you should be more mindful when you speak of mercy.” I added, as if I hadn’t heard the fayth.

Where was the man that Suyin—that I—had known? The starless prince with bright eyes and a bright heart that had believed in the godstars? That young Valerian who’d wanted change. He and I had been friends then, the Startouched and her knight. Deep down I knew that he was long gone, that the boy so full of devotion to Suyin had probably died that day, his naïve spirit crushed by the weight of war. 

Whoever stood beside me wasn’t the same person, even if it was a familiar reflection.

I couldn't help it; I laughed. 

The people in the mirror looking back at us were only ghosts of who they used to be. Me, in a body that was mine but did not know, and him with a soul corrupted by an unseen darkness. Perhaps it was that unnatural fayth of, or perhaps it was because he’d lost his way. But it didn’t change the fact that the man beside me who called himself Valerian of Nepenthe was not the same one we had known all those years ago.

He looked at me, no fear in his eyes, but he seemed uneasy. Good. If I couldn’t make him afraid, the least I could do was unsettle him. I was not the same person I was back then, and I would make sure he knew it. 

**Author's Note:**

> i have a [tumblr](https://sacrasm.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/keiyoko_) where i sometimes yell about things


End file.
